


Dark In A Soul Eclipse

by mysticanni



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hot Space Era, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Minor Violence, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticanni/pseuds/mysticanni
Summary: Tensions run high as the band record Hot Space.Roger is glad to have Crystal on his side.
Relationships: Chris "Crystal" Taylor/Roger Taylor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Dark In A Soul Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Soul Eclipse" by Sam Phillips.

The little toy train whirred around the toy train tracks they had laid throughout their suite of rooms in the hotel. The tracks wound around table legs and under chairs. There were carefully constructed miniature villages with tiny figures on little train platforms. The train sped through tunnels and over small bridges.

Crystal particularly liked the detailed miniscule trees that lined part of the track. The whole train set had cost a fortune, of course, but Roger could afford it. 

Roger was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching the progress of the train and silently crying – tears were streaming down his face. Crystal loudly cleared his throat so Roger was aware that he was there. He felt slightly embarrassed about seeing Roger in such a vulnerable state.

Roger’s head moved slightly but he gave no other indication that he was aware of Crystal’s presence. Crystal hovered feeling awkward. Should he say something? The most obvious thing to do would be to ask why Roger was upset. But Crystal was pretty certain Roger was upset because of the seemingly fucking endless nightmare that the recording sessions for the band’s latest album had turned into. 

Crystal hesitated then stooped and gently squeezed Roger’s shoulder. Brian had stormed out earlier, shouting that he quit. It was not the first time he had flounced off in the huff. “He’ll come back,” Crystal offered feeling awkward. 

Roger sniffed. He sighed heavily. “Maybe...Sometimes I think it would be better if...if he didn’t come back...If we just...stopped.”

Crystal hovered over Roger, feeling alarmed. This seemed very un-Roger-ish. “It’ll get better,” he offered, feeling it was a lame thing to say even as he said it. He was also far from convinced it was true. 

Roger sighed again. “I wish I believed that,” he gulped. He scrambled to his feet and lurched into Crystal’s arms. Crystal automatically folded him into a hug. He could feel warm tears soaking into the fabric of his t-shirt at the shoulder. Roger mumbled something indistinct. 

“I didn’t catch that,” Crystal told him. He hesitantly rubbed Roger’s back. 

“I’ve tried so hard,” Roger wailed, “I don’t know what else to do!”

Crystal helplessly rubbed Roger’s back again. He didn’t see what Roger could do either. Over Roger’s head he watched the little toy train rattle around the track and wished they could both be in that tiny little village the train had just sped by with no worries or responsibilities or other people. 

The people were the problem, Crystal reflected. There was some kind of weird power play going on. Crystal personally thought the real issue was Freddie’s assistant Paul Prenter. The band had neatly solved the issue of assistants trying to muscle their way into becoming Queen’s manager by appointing Miami in that role. That meant that any assistant with ambitions had to go elsewhere to fulfil them. However, Crystal suspected that Prenter was trying to split Queen up with the devious intention of then declaring himself Freddie’s manager as Freddie embarked on a glittering solo career. 

Freddie had always insisted that band meetings were band only for the very reason that he did not want anyone trying to manipulate them to their own ends. Only the band should know what they disagreed about or agreed upon. Only the band should know each other’s pressure points. 

But Roger had muttered darkly that Prenter had wormed his way into a couple of band meetings. And now Crystal thought he was trying to use whatever he had learned to his own advantage. Crystal reckoned he was trying to split the band into two camps – Freddie and John versus Roger and Brian. He had indicated on the first day in the recording studio that they could use a drum machine instead of Roger.

An inflammatory move – one that Brian had scoffed at. Of course they would use Roger, he had said.

Crystal thought Roger had sensed that there was some kind of ulterior motive at work and had lightly suggested that they should try the drum machine to see how that sounded and that he would programme it. This had been a clever move, in Crystal’s opinion – by being in favour of the drum machine he had avoided a confrontation which might have led to the immediate dissolution of the band.

It had not been easy, however. Crystal knew Roger was devastated at effectively being replaced by a machine. It had also meant that Brian had been deprived of an ally when he was bewildered and isolated in his views on the way the album was going. And Prenter had stirred things further by suggesting there was less need for Brian on this album – voicing an opinion that his distinctive playing would not fit with the desired fresh sound they were looking for. Crystal was unsure if Freddie and John would have suggested that themselves. They might have, of course, but he felt certain Prenter was insidious and manipulative and having a deleterious effect on proceedings. 

Brian was apt to explode at any suggestion that his playing was not required. Prenter seemed to have failed to take into consideration the fact that most of the band’s songs were written by either Brian or Freddie. Would Freddie have enough songs for a solo album? Maybe, but he didn’t have enough songs to fill this album alone. Of course, if Prenter’s main goal was to get the band to split up then perhaps that didn’t matter. 

Still, Brian was currently necessary in order to make the album but the constant rows over whether a track needed a guitar solo or not had caused Brian to storm out a couple of times. There had been some truly spectacular rows. 

Crystal suspected that Prenter was suggesting to John that Brian was disrespectful of him and his musical vision. Stirring things up seemed to be Prenter’s speciality at the moment. 

It occurred to Crystal that Brian walked out and the band remained intact. He wondered what would happen if Roger left. Roger, in Crystal’s opinion, held everything together. He was certainly trying to the keep the peace at the moment. Roger had strong friendships with each member of the band and although he was perfectly capable of flying off the handle in an argument and liked to get his own way he had an essentially sunny disposition which endeared him to everyone. The others never stayed angry with Roger for long and they listened to him. Roger was persuasive.

Crystal had to admit he was biased, though. He had been head over heels in love with Roger pretty much ever since he’d met him.

Roger had no idea, of course. And he never would if Crystal had his way.

Now, he gently stroked Roger’s hair. “It’ll all work out,” he murmured, hoping this meaningless nonsense was soothing. 

“Yeah,” Roger croaked unconvincingly. “Yeah, of course it will. I’m just being silly. Sorry Crys.” 

Crystal wanted to tell him that he could cry on his shoulder any time. “’S all right,” he muttered gruffly instead. 

*

They got drunk.

Every night – a club – drinks – dancing – a party later in either Freddie or Roger’s suites at the hotel.

The hangovers and lack of sleep weren’t helping matters in the studio, Crystal reckoned. But it was none of his business. 

He tried to avoid getting too drunk himself – so he was on hand to loom menacingly if Roger was receiving unwanted attention – and also so that he could make sure Roger got back to the hotel in one piece.

Now, a few weeks into the recording sessions Roger had stopped bringing doe-eyed admirers back to his rooms from the club. Crystal had been very jealous of these invariably beautiful strangers Roger had given his time to but he was also worried that Roger had stopped this because he was depressed. 

*

Crystal lurked in a corner, watching proceedings, although they had ground to a halt as Brian was finding fault with the song they were working on. Roger asked, perfectly reasonably if you asked Crystal which of course no one had, what Brian suggested they should do differently. Brian whirled around, looking furious which Crystal thought was a bit uncalled for.

Brian was unshaven and Crystal thought the crumpled clothes he was wearing were the same ones he’d had on yesterday. Crystal suspected he was still drunk from the night before although it was now mid afternoon. Crystal struggled off the sagging sofa and edged warily and – he hoped -unobtrusively towards Roger. 

“Some support would be fucking nice, Roger,” Brian seethed.

“Now, darling,” Freddie suddenly looked wary. He also moved towards Brian and Roger.

“Roger is not your puppet,” John snapped.

“This is a group effort, isn’t it?” Roger ventured. 

Brian snorted. “I thought we were all doing as John told us,” Brian spat out, “But excuse me if I’ve misunderstood.”

“There’s nothing wrong with trying a fresh sound,” Roger pointed out.

“This isn’t what our listeners want!” Brian snarled, throwing his hands up into the air, “Although I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand that – what you write isn’t what anyone wants.”

Crystal felt his hands bunch into fists and it was an effort to relax them. He had seen the hurt flash across Roger’s face.

There was complete silence for a moment before Roger said, his voice cracking slightly, “I know people either love or hate my songs so maybe I’m not the best judge of what the listening public would like. I didn’t think Another One Bites The Dust would do as well as it has. Which is why I think it is worth trying a different approach.”

“Rog...” For a moment Crystal thought Brian might apologise but then he continued, in an exasperated tone, “I just don’t feel what we are doing is Queen. This isn’t who we are.”

“It’s who I am,” John said in a clipped voice.

Brian made a dismissive gesture. “You’ve had a few lucky breaks with your songs...”

“John’s songs are excellent,” Roger said as Freddie simultaneously uttered something along the same lines. “And John’s songs are arguably the most popular,” Roger added. 

Brian looked furious. “I think that’s debatable,” he said in a cold brittle tone.

“We’re a team,” Freddie offered although he didn’t sound very sure which Crystal couldn’t blame him for.

“Your problem is that you think we only exist to showcase your endless guitar solos,” John snapped.

“That is monstrously unfair!” Brian objected, “But I do think we have a unique sound which you seem to want to destroy!”

“This is just a different Queen sound,” Roger suggested. 

“Oh, fuck off!” Brian huffed. 

“You don’t have an argument so you’ve resorted to swearing,” John noted smugly.

“Fuck you, too!” Brian snarled. He turned back to Roger. “I would have expected you, of all people, to understand. You can’t write songs,” Crystal winced at the look that flitted across Roger’s face, “You’re not getting to play the drums on these songs. What fucking use are you? Have you got splinters in your arse from all the sitting on the fence you’re doing?”

“I just...” Roger looked lost and Crystal’s heart ached for him. He longed to be able to hug him. He felt a strong desire to punch Brian and had to make a conscious effort to unclench his fists again.

“You just don’t think what I want matters,” Brian spat at him, “As long as you have an easy life.”

“That’s not true, Bri,” Roger said softly. “I’m sorry you’re so upset about this...”

“I don’t need your fucking pity!” Brian howled. He suddenly gave an incoherent howl of rage and swung wildly at Roger. Crystal shot across the room to insert his body between them although Roger had already danced out of the way. Crystal felt Roger close behind him. Everything was now very quiet. Brian looked astonished. Crystal glared at him. “Stand back,” he requested. “Rog, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Roger answered - his voice barely audible.

“C’m’ on,” Crystal said, “Let’s get out of here.” He was glad when Roger obediently followed him out of the studio.

The studio was in the basement of the hotel. There was a dedicated elevator that led to their suite. They walked to it in silence. Once they were alone in the elevator Roger leaned against Crystal who wrapped his arms around him. “Thank you,” Roger mumbled. 

“Are you okay?” Crystal repeated.

“No,” Roger admitted, “but...” He shrugged. “I expect I will be.”

*

He would have to be okay, Roger thought wearily. What might happen if he was not okay seemed too awful to consider.

Crystal cleared his throat. Poor Crystal – all this emotion was probably making him terribly embarrassed. “Do you want to talk about it?” Crystal asked gruffly. 

“No,” Roger replied immediately. He never ever wanted to talk about it. He wanted to block from his mind everything that had been said. 

“Okay,” Crystal sounded relieved. “Um...If you do...Want to talk...I’m here...”

Roger felt tears well up in his eyes. He blinked them away furiously. He couldn’t cry on Crystal’s shoulder again. “That’s very kind of you,” he croaked. 

*

He wanted to hide in his room and never see the others again but that was not going to be practical.

And so he went out as they always did. Brian was nowhere to be seen which Roger was grateful for. He wasn’t entirely sure he could do this at all and he certainly didn’t think he could deal with either a drunk and guilty Brian or a drunk and still hostile Brian. He was thankful for Crystal’s solid presence next to him. 

Freddie and John were already in the club and the moment John saw Roger he dragged him onto the dance floor. He mouthed ‘are you okay?’ at Roger who simply nodded. He wasn’t okay but he was going to have to be.

*

“Is he okay?” Freddie asked as Crystal sat at the table he had commandeered. 

Crystal shrugged. “You’d need to ask him,” he snapped. No, he thought, he is not okay. “He deserves better than that,” he added irritably. 

Freddie gave him an appraising look and he felt a little surge of anger. He was judging them. They didn’t get to judge him. The thought flitted through his mind that Freddie could apparently evaluate him but seemed blind to how poisonous Prenter was. 

Crystal stood up, “I’m going to the bar,” he snapped, “Does anyone want anything?” He was glad no one was foolish enough to actually reply.

When he returned from the bar with his own drink and one for Roger he found that Roger was now at the table. He smiled his thanks at Crystal across the table. Roger was sitting next to Freddie – the seat of honour Crystal thought darkly. He listened intently to see if he could hear what they were saying. It seemed to be light-hearted gossip. Crystal assumed Freddie had decided that they were not going to talk about The Unpleasantness Earlier. 

Crystal supposed that was a good thing, in a way. Now probably wasn’t the time or the place. He felt aggrieved on Roger’s behalf. Prenter looked very smug and Crystal allowed his thoughts to drift into a little day-dream of punching him in the face. He imagined the little shocked look on Prenter’s face as he tumbled backwards off his chair. He imagined blood pouring from his nose and staining his white shirt. He imagined his boot connecting with his soft belly. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him that violence was never the answer. If you had to resort to violence you had already lost. Brian had proved that earlier. Crystal sighed and sipped his beer. His mother was right, of course. And yet he sometimes thought violence was the only language some people understood. 

*

Roger staggered down the steps as they left the club. “Careful,” Crystal counselled him, tucking Roger safely under his arm, holding him close.

“It’s not me,” Roger protested, “It’s icy,” he added. He stared at his breath which was visible in the cold night air.

Crystal gave a disbelieving snort then had to grab hold of Roger as his foot slid away. “Sneaky bastard black ice,” he huffed. 

Roger grinned at him. “You’re drunk,” he decided, sounding happy about this. 

“Not,” Crystal shook his head. Roger laughed at him. “Might be a little,” he conceded, adding, “It’s been a hard day.” It had been a hard week. It had also been a hard month. In fact it had been a hard year and possibly a hard life. He grinned back at Roger then considered the dangers facing them on their way back to the hotel. It seemed like a good excuse to put his arm around Roger’s shoulders so he did. “Step carefully,” he warned him, “There’s fucking treacherous bastard ice.”

“There is,” Roger agreed, nestling against him.

They made it to the hotel without falling. Crystal smiled at Roger once they were in the lift that took them to their suite. He still had his arm around Roger. Roger didn’t seem to mind.

Roger looked at him with an expression Crystal couldn’t read then pressed his cold lips against Crystal’s. Roger tasted like beer and strawberries. Crystal was afraid he had made a muffled noise of surprise. Roger drew back and looked at him again. He looked small and worried and vulnerable and very kissable so Crystal kissed him – beer and strawberries. Crystal closed his eyes then opened them again as the lift pinged and the doors opened as they arrived at their suite. The world spun. Roger was pulling him out of the lift. “You taste like strawberries.”

Roger looked surprised then he laughed, “Lip balm,” he explained. “Freddie gave me it.”

*

Crystal cautiously opened one eye. There was too much light so he closed it again. “Good morning,” Roger chirruped. Crystal grunted. Then he considered this. Roger was not normally in his bedroom in the morning. He opened one eye again and managed to keep it open for long enough to ascertain that he was in Roger’s room. He closed his eye again and considered this. He was in Roger’s bed.

He was in Roger’s bed with Roger, apparently. 

Crystal gingerly opened both eyes. There had been alcohol. There had been ice. Roger had kissed him. He had kissed Roger.

Roger kissed him again now. “Good morning,” he repeated.

“Unnatural,” Crystal muttered. 

Roger frowned at him. “What’s that?” he asked. 

“Not normal to be cheerful in the morning,” Crystal explained sleepily, “Witch or something.”

Roger grinned. “It’s almost noon,” he informed Crystal. 

“Still witch,” Crystal mumbled, “Elf, maybe. Little blond elf.”

“Well, I’m going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Roger announced in a disgustingly perky way. “Poached eggs on toast!”

And that was alarming for all sorts of reasons. “Room service?” Crystal hoped. 

“No, I’ll make them!” Roger sang merrily, already at the door of the room. 

Crystal contemplated his ability to move. Ideally, he should be leaping out of bed and rushing to the little kitchen area of the suite (a fridge, a sink, two hot plates, a toaster and a kettle) in order to prevent Roger from actually trying to prepare food. However, his head was pounding and he felt incapable of sitting up. On the other hand, he would have to move when the fire alarm sounded, which seemed the likeliest outcome of Roger preparing food. Or he could just lie where he was and let the fire take him. He closed his eyes again. Sod it. 

“Crys?” Roger sounded unsure of himself. Crystal opened his eyes. Roger was standing by the bed carrying a tray with a plate on it. There was a lovely poached egg sitting on some buttered toast on the plate.

“Did you make this?” Crystal asked suspiciously. He couldn’t smell smoke. Roger looked unruffled. Roger looked gorgeous. Crystal thought that after he’d had his poached egg he would have to get Roger back into bed. He struggled into a sitting position and Roger gently placed the tray across Crystal’s legs, looking expectantly at him. “Aren’t you having any?” Crystal asked, “Or don’t elves eat?”

“I woke up ages ago and I’ve had toast,” Roger told him. “Tuck in. I’ll get your mug of tea.”

Crystal felt a little better once he’d breakfasted. Roger slid back into bed next to him and kissed him. “I took advantage of you while you were drunk,” Crystal began because this had been bothering him. 

Roger shook his head, “Other way round,” he said. 

Crystal frowned. “No, but...This...It probably isn’t a good idea.”

Roger kissed him insistently. “This...” Roger gestured between them, “Us...Most of the people in my life are being really fucking difficult just now,” he sighed, “This...Us...This makes me happy.” He kissed Crystal again. And really, Crystal thought, he couldn’t argue with that.

*

Freddie looked exaggeratedly at his watch when they entered the studio. “So kind of you to join us, Roger, dear,” he drawled. 

Roger laughed. “I haven’t beaten your record for lateness by a long way,” he pointed out. “What are we working on?” he asked.

Brian looked as if he was about to say something but apparently thought better of it. John gave Roger a little smile and said they were working on ‘Staying Power’. Brian muttered something which Crystal thought might have been, “So you needn’t have bothered coming.”

*

Brian entered the little studio kitchen as Crystal was making coffee. Brian halted looking wary and Crystal felt grim satisfaction in that. “You were out of order yesterday,” Crystal informed him.

Brian sniffed. “That’s between me and Roger,” he muttered. “We’re family,” he added defensively. “You wouldn’t understand.”

As if Crystal didn’t have a family, or something. Crystal felt his hands bunch into fists again and it took considerable effort to relax them. “You were out of order,” he repeated, “And Roger is too nice for his own good sometimes.” He swept out of the tiny space with his mug of coffee ignoring Brian’s spluttered query about exactly what he meant by that.

He should feel sorry for Brian, he knew. He was caught up in the same power play as Roger and he was obviously struggling. But that didn’t give him the right to hurt Roger.

Prenter was sitting on the sagging sofa when Crystal got back to the studio. Crystal carefully sat down – there was a knack to sitting on the ancient piece of furniture if you wanted to avoid slopping coffee everywhere. He managed it successfully. He glanced at Prenter and decided that he could afford to be nice. “All right?” he offered. 

Prenter smirked at him. “Better than you, I reckon,” he said, nodding towards the coffee mug, “You were quite drunk last night, weren’t you?”

Crystal wanted to tell him to fuck off. He forced a smile onto his face. “Yeah, I overdid it a bit,” he replied. 

“Sure, it must be hard to put up with Roger’s idiocy twenty-four seven,” Prenter noted. 

Crystal felt the hand that was not holding his mug curl into a fist. Only he was allowed to call Roger an idiot. “Roger’s all right,” he said. Roger was more than all right, he thought. Roger was warm and generous and sweet and gentle. Roger would not punch Prenter. With a little sigh Crystal relaxed his clenched hand. He sipped his coffee. He told himself that as long as Prenter was irritating him he could not drip poison in Freddie or John’s ears or wind up Brian or distress Roger.

*

The good thing about effectively living in a hotel was that you could order room service and a lovely meal arrived for you with champagne. “Are we celebrating?” Crystal asked. 

“Always,” Roger said, sounding very serious.

The good thing about having a suite was that there was a proper dining table so they didn’t have to eat awkwardly on their laps. Roger had also located candles from somewhere and so they had a candlelit dinner for two. And there was no washing up either. Crystal wholeheartedly approved. 

After they had eaten Roger came to sit on Crystal’s lap and provide champagne flavoured kisses. “I could get used to this,” Crystal murmured. 

“You can,” Roger assured him.

*

Roger found the tension in the studio easier to cope with once he was seeing Crystal. When things got bad – which seemed to be most of the time – he reminded himself that Crystal wanted him. Crystal cared about him. He felt loved – although Crystal had never actually said he loved him.

A few days after Brian’s accusations of lack of support – Roger was actively trying to forget the other things Brian had said – the things everyone had said – Brian had cornered him in the kitchen when Roger was getting water. Brian had looked uncomfortable then had swept Roger into an awkward hug. Brian felt shockingly thin and Roger felt guilty for not having looked after him better. “Are you okay?” he had asked. 

“I’m sorry about the other day,” Brian choked out.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t been supportive enough,” Roger told him softly. 

*

After that Roger made a point of having lunch or dinner with Brian once a week with a ban on talking about anything related to the band or the album. He thought it would help Brian but found that he was looking forward to their outings too. “Should I be jealous?” Crystal asked. 

Roger laughed. “No,” he shook his head. “You don’t mind, do you?” 

“Mind?” Crystal had looked puzzled, “No, I don’t mind you spending time with your friends, of course I don’t.” He had slipped his arms around Roger and kissed him. “As long as you come back to me,” he added. 

“Always,” Roger had laughed. 

*

It could be the best album in the world but it would always conjure up memories of this miserable time in their lives. At least, Roger thought that would happen. He supposed that if it was an amazing success that might blot out the pain of making it. He doubted it, though. He suspected it was doomed to be associated with their rows and the cracks that had opened up in their friendships. And yet, for him, there would be happy memories too because of Crystal. 

He smiled and leaned over to kiss Crystal’s cheek. They were snuggled together in bed. Crystal wound his arm around Roger’s waist and kissed him gently. “What’s up, Elf?” he asked drowsily. 

*

Crystal realised he had crossed his arms defensively over his chest and uncrossed them. Then he felt self-conscious about having them hanging loosely. He needed something to occupy his hands, he thought irritably. He glanced at Roger who was sitting behind a table signing autographs. Crystal sighed. He looked at the queue snaking around the room and wondered when they would eventually be able to leave. He cheered himself with the thought that they would have a well deserved break after this and he was going to lie on a sun lounger by a turquoise pool – it would just be him and Roger – no band to worry about – no one shouting and no one storming out and slamming the door behind them.

Then there would be a tour. But that was a problem for another day. Relaxed tanned Crystal could deal with that when the time came.

He sighed inwardly when Freddie suggested going for drinks after the final fan had left. He wanted to take Roger to bed. He always wanted to take Roger to bed. He always wanted to be alone with Roger. He was greedy for Roger. Crystal thought he shared Roger a lot. He shared Roger far too much. Crystal was practically a saint the way he shared Roger with others. 

Everyone was agreeing that since it was their last night together for a while they would go for a drink. Roger cast a quick glance at Crystal and Crystal forced a smile and little nod. Yes, they would go for a drink. Delayed gratification – he could anticipate jumping into bed with Roger later. 

*

Crystal was unprepared for Freddie pointing a cocktail stick at him and saying, “So, Crystal, darling, what’s going on with you and our Roggie?”

Roger’s eyes opened wide. He looked sweet and slightly comical peering at Freddie over the rim of the cocktail glass he was sipping from.

The others looked astonished. Crystal shrugged and replied, “A lot of very enjoyable sex.” A pretty pink flush coloured Roger’s cheeks. Delayed gratification, he reminded himself.

John almost choked on his drink. Brian’s jaw dropped open. Crystal was quite proud of that. He was also quite glad that it was just him and the band that had come for drinks. He wondered slightly uneasily if it was his presence here that had led to Freddie asking the question. 

Freddie looked amused and aimed a questioning glance at Roger. Roger set his glass down and suddenly laughed. “Yes,” he confirmed, “a lot of very enjoyable sex.”

*

The wind whipped Roger’s hair about his face as they drove south. It was dry and sunny and probably still a little chilly to have the roof of the car down but it felt like a holiday-ish thing to do. “Are you too cold?” Crystal asked. “We can put the top back up.”

Roger shook his head – his hair rippling and settling around his face, “No, this is lovely,” he said. 

“You know, um...” Crystal thought of the comments the others had made the evening before when they had found out about Crystal and Roger’s relationship, “Uh...If you want to...stop...I understand.”

“I thought we were going to stop at that little village?” Roger said, sounding confused. “I can’t remember the name of it...Do you need to stop now?” he asked.

“No...No, Rog...” Crystal sighed, “If you want to stop our...relationship...”

There was a long pause. Crystal concentrated on the road ahead. Roger eventually said, in a small voice, “Don’t you want me anymore?”

“That’s...What Brian said...” Crystal sighed again. 

“I can’t...” Roger’s voice sounded odd as if he was trying not to cry. “I can’t have this conversation in the car.”

“No,” Crystal agreed, “It was stupid of me to bring it up here.”

“Just tell me one thing,” Roger requested, “Do you want to end our relationship? I don’t mean do you think we should or someone else thinks we should – do you want to?”

“No,” Crystal gulped. 

There was another long silence. Roger’s voice was hoarse when he spoke next. “We will talk about this tonight.”

“Yeah,” Crystal agreed, “tonight.”

*

Roger seemed subdued when they stopped and had lunch at a cafe in a little village. He was plainly trying to Make An Effort and Crystal tried hard too but the notion that they had to Talk was looming over both of them. 

It was late in the evening when they arrived at their destination – a villa by the sea. The housekeeper had left some food for them and a bottle of wine. They sat at the kitchen table eating in silence at first and then Roger said, “I can’t imagine being without you.” He looked at Crystal, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I think I’ve bloody well fallen in love with you.”

Crystal grinned. “I think I’ve bloody well fallen in love with you, too,” he murmured. 

“Well then why are you trying to break up with me?” Roger demanded. 

“I’m not!” Crystal protested, “I just...I wasn’t sure how you felt...” Roger was staring at him with an injured expression. “And I’m an idiot,” he offered. 

“Yes,” Roger muttered, “you are.” His face softened. “Have you been fretting about what Brian said?”

*

Brian had cleared his throat. “How long has this been going on for?”

“A few months,” Roger had answered crisply. He was uncomfortable with having his relationship with Crystal revealed like this. He was not ashamed of the relationship but it was theirs. It had been a treasured secret for him to hug to himself while things were difficult. No one else had been able to interfere or comment on their relationship. Now, his friends were going to want details.

“But,” John took a slug of his drink, “You’re Crystal’s boss.”

“Not in the bedroom, I think,” Freddie had laughed and Roger had blushed. 

“It would seem a shame to spoil two relationships,” Brian commented, “Your working relationship and your private one.”

“Our relationship is just fine, thanks,” Roger had snapped. 

Brian had looked slightly embarrassed, “I don’t mean...It’s just...You don’t have the best track record with relationships, Roggie. And this...Well...You won’t really be able to work together afterwards will you?”

Roger considered this now as he looked across the table at Crystal. “If I do fuck this up...” He sighed. “I mean – no, I would never find another employee half as good, probably – but I’d never find as good a friend either. I’d miss having you as a friend far more than I’d miss you working for me or...or...fucking me...” He took a slug of wine.

Crystal looked startled. “I can’t imagine us not being friends,” he said, sounding alarmed. “I’d like to think we would always be friends.”

Their eyes met across the table. “I expect we will be then,” Roger said, slightly unsteadily. 

“Yeah,” Crystal gulped some wine. “We’ll just have to stay together,” he added. “You might have had lamentable choice in partners before but you’ve clearly finally come to your senses.”

Roger grinned. “What does that say about you?”

“It says that I’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses,” Crystal told him, getting up and walking around the table. Roger stood up and wrapped his arms around him. “And you’ve hit the jackpot now, obviously. Come on,” Crystal murmured, “let’s find the bed in this place.”


End file.
